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Their Christmas Family Miracle

Год написания книги
2018
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Their Christmas Family Miracle
Caroline Anderson

Their Christmas

Family Miracle

Caroline Anderson

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Table of Contents

Cover Page (#u7882a732-4760-5461-9086-1a6e1836441e)

Title Page (#ue6111267-7cca-59ec-b579-6a4463531012)

Dear Reader (#ua394574d-ae9c-5ef1-bb53-a46781dbc979)

About The Author (#ubf964701-2afc-551f-854a-3e5858d6d09b)

Chapter One (#u3906a6e3-d8fa-5b74-bf61-8f8eb3058fd0)

Chapter Two (#u40c83b26-d9ed-5c5a-b9b2-cf73b3467a9d)

Chapter Three (#u402e8dbd-31b4-517d-be1c-8f221873d26c)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader

Isn’t it amazing how quickly Christmas comes round? How wonderfully, reliably, relentlessly often? And it’s so expensive, too. Expectations are unrealistically high, emotions are near the surface, and there’s nothing quite like it for underlining not only the joys but the tragedies and disappointments of our lives too.

So imagine you’ve suddenly been made homeless and your life is in total chaos. Or that Christmas is the worst time in the world for you and the only way you can deal with it is to pretend it doesn’t happen. Then imagine what happens when these two people are thrown together at Christmastime—and put three children and a dog into the mix. Stir well and make a wish…

I cried buckets writing this, so a word of warning—if you’re a softie, put on your waterproof mascara! And I hope you have a wonderful Christmas.

With love

Caroline

Caroline Anderson has the mind of a butterfly. She’s been a nurse, a secretary, a teacher, run her own softfurnishing business and now she’s settled on writing. She says, ‘I was looking for that elusive something. I finally realised it was variety, and now I have it in abundance. Every book brings new horizons and new friends, and in between books I have learned to be a juggler. My teacher husband John and I have two beautiful and talented daughters, Sarah and Hannah, umpteen pets and several acres of Suffolk that nature tries to reclaim every time we turn our backs!’

Caroline also writes for the Mills & Boon

Medical™ Romance series.

CHAPTER ONE

‘WE NEED to talk.’

Amelia sat back on her heels and looked up at her sister with a sinking heart. She’d heard them arguing, heard her brother-in-law’s harsh, bitter tone, heard the slamming of the doors, then her sister’s approaching footsteps on the stairs. And she knew what was coming.

What she didn’t know was how to deal with it.

‘This isn’t working,’ she said calmly.

‘No.’ Laura looked awkward and acutely uncomfortable, but she also looked a little relieved that Amelia had made it easy for her. Again. Her hands clenched and unclenched nervously. ‘It’s not me—it’s Andy. Well, and me, really, I suppose. It’s the kids. They just—run around all the time, and the baby cries all night, and Andy’s tired. He’s supposed to be having a rest over Christmas, and instead—it’s not their fault, Millie, but having the children here is difficult, we’re just not used to it. And the dog, really, is the last straw. So—yes, I’m sorry, but—if you could find somewhere as soon as possible after Christmas—’

Amelia set aside the washing she was folding and got up, shaking her head, the thought of staying where she—no, where her children were not wanted, anathema to her. ‘It’s OK. Don’t apologise. It’s a terrible imposition. Don’t worry about it, we’ll go now. I’ll just pack their things and we’ll get out of your hair—’

‘I thought you didn’t have anywhere to go?’

She didn’t. Or money to pay for it, but that was hardly her sister’s fault, was it? ‘Don’t worry,’ she said again. ‘We’ll go to Kate’s.’

But crossing her fingers behind her back was pointless. Kate lived in a tiny cottage, one up one down, with hardly room for her and her own daughter. There was no way the four of them and the dog could squeeze in, too. But her sister didn’t know that, and her shoulders dropped in relief.

‘I’ll help you get their things together,’ she said quickly, and disappeared, presumably to comb the house for any trace of their presence while Amelia sagged against the wall, shutting her eyes hard against the bitter sting of tears and fighting down the sob of desperation that was rising in her throat. Two and a half days to Christmas.

Short, dark, chaotic days in which she had no hope of finding anywhere for them to go or another job to pay for it. And, just to make it worse, they were in the grip of an unseasonably cold snap, so even if they were driven to it, there was no way they could sleep in the car. Not without running the engine, and that wasn’t an option, since she probably only had just enough fuel to get away from her sister’s house with her pride intact.

And, as it was the only thing she had left, that was a priority.

Sucking in a good, deep breath, she gathered up the baby’s clothes and started packing them haphazardly, then stopped herself. She had to prioritise. Things for the next twenty-four hours in one little bag, then everything else she could sort out later once they’d arrived at wherever they were going. She sorted, shuffled, packed the baby’s clothes, then her own, then finally went into the bedroom Kitty and Edward were sharing and packed their clothes and toys, with her mind firmly shut down and her thoughts banished for now.

She could think later. There’d be time to think once they were out of here. In the meantime, she needed to gather up the children and any other bits and pieces she’d overlooked and get them out before she totally lost it. She went down with the bags hanging like bunches of grapes from her fingers, dumped them in the hall and went into the euphemistically entitled family room, where her children were lying on their tummies watching the TV with the dog between them.

Not on the sofa again, mercifully.

‘Kitty? Edward? Come and help me look for all your things, because we’re going to go and see Kate and Megan.’

‘What—now?’ Edward asked, twisting round, his face sceptical. ‘It’s nearly lunch time.’

‘Are we going to Kate’s for lunch?’ Kitty asked brightly.

‘Yes. It’s a surprise.’ A surprise for Kate, at least, she thought, hustling them through the house and gathering up the last few traces of their brief but eventful stay.
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